How to Command
by Black Rien
Summary: Of all the things Seimei values, control is one of the most important… Past moments involving Seimei's connections to Soubi/Nisei/Ritsuka.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer:  
I do not own Loveless or profit from writing this in any way, shape, or form.  
Loveless is the property of Yun Kouga.  
This is Fanfiction and, therefore, written only for my own amusement, and the enjoyment of whoever reads it.

Summary:  
Of all the things Seimei values, control is one of the most important…  
Past moments involving Seimei's connections to Soubi/Nisei/Ritsuka.

* * *

How to Command

_"He who wishes to be obeyed, must know how to command."_  
**- Niccolò Machiavelli**

* * *

Outside of a slightly unkempt studio, which proclaimed in large letters 'ART CLASSES', a tall man with blonde hair sits patiently, awaiting the arrival of 'his' Sacrifice. Bandages wrapped around his neck, hiding the name he was 'given', violently carved into his flesh.

A cigarette hangs loosely from his lips, the thickly scented smoke wafting around his head like a dark grey halo. The man was without his ears, an 'adult', though he was barely older than seventeen. Half a block away, a younger man with black hair that fell softly around his face was walking towards him. A smile graced his lips, though it never reached his dark, controlling eyes. Ears still attached, not even fifteen, he exuded an air of confidence and power.

The blonde man stood, never meeting the other's eyes. The younger man stopped a few feet away from the blonde, "Soubi," came the cold, nearly emotionless words, "Get that garbage out of your mouth. I dislike having fumes desecrating the air I'm breathing."

The blonde quickly removed the cigarette from his mouth, "Forgive me, Seimei." was whispered and his shoes crushed it into the ground.

The younger, digust painting his features as the blonde called him by name, gave a non-commital noise and continued walking. Soubi followed suite, knowing by sheer instinct and years of obediance that he was to follow without question…

* * *

Two years had passed since that day, and now, a sixteen year old Seimei had just arrived at a large apartment complex. He walked past door after door until he stopped by one with the name placard, 'Akame, Nisei'. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he drew forth a key.

Inserting his key and turning the door open, he stepped inside, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering scent of candles. He held his hand against his nose, breathing in the scent of his own skin, anything to disrupt the irritating smell of the burning wick, and walked towards the kitchen.

Inside, sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, eating something out of a bowl, was his Fighter, the one who, by birth, had born the Name BELOVED. To the far left of the fighter, a candle burned, giving off the scent of lavender.

Seimei sighed, "Nisei," he spoke, startling the young man at the counter, "Blow out that candle."

The older male, long black hair swishing as he spun around on the stool, glared at him, "What's wrong with it? And don't you know how to knock before entering someone's home?"

Seimei ignored the glare, "You are my Fighter, Nisei, I have no need to knock on your door. If I want to come in, I will do so. Now, do as I said, blow out that candle."

The Fighter huffed indignantly before jumping off the stool and blowing heavily on the candle, ousting it instantly, "Better?" he asked.

Seimei merely nodded and turned around, "Come, Nisei."

The Fighter sighed dramatically and followed, sticking his hands in his pockets as the pair walked out of the apartment, _'Duty calls…'_

* * *

It was one day before Seimei was turning seventeen. He was sitting in his room, glasses perched atop his nose as his fingers ran over his computer's keyboard.

A slight creak gave away his younger brother as he crept into the room, which Seimei ignored, a small knowing smile on his lips.

Thin arms laced around his chest, and a cheerful, "Happy birthday, Seimei!", was shouted. The older turned his head around, removing the glasses from his face, "My birthday is tomorrow, Ritsuka." he admonished, smiling down at his brother.

"I know, Seimei, but… I wanted to wish you happy birthday before everyone else!" the younger said with a broad smile, his cat ears twitching atop his dark head.

Seimei smiled and pulled his younger brother onto his lap, sharing the seat in a way that he never would dream of doing with anyone but Ritsuka.

The younger laughed as he leaned against his brother's chest, then frowned slightly at the screensaver that adorned his brother's computer, "Seimei? What does this say?" he asked, confused.

Seimei placed one of his hands on top of his brother's head as he leaned back in the chair, "It says, '_He who wishes to be obeyed, must know how to command.'_ It's a quotation from Niccolò Machiavelli."

His younger brother frowned, attempting to understand, causing Seimei to chuckle softly, "Don't worry, Ritsuka," he said, smiling, though if it was a true smile, it was near impossible to tell, "You'll understand it someday…"

* * *

A/N: A two, possible threeshot.  
Transferred from my other account.

Black Rien


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer:  
I do not own Loveless or profit from writing this in any way, shape, or form.  
Loveless is the property of Yun Kouga.  
This is Fanfiction and, therefore, written only for my own amusement, and the enjoyment of whoever reads it.

Summary:  
Of all the things Seimei values, control is one of the most important…  
Past moments involving Seimei's connections to Soubi/Nisei/Ritsuka.

* * *

How to Command  
_  
"You are ice and fire, the touch of you burns my hands like snow."_  
**- Amy Lowell**

* * *

Seimei Aoyagi. An honours student, adored by everyone who knew him, or thought that they did. It was a fitting situation for someone who's Name was BELOVED.

The fifteen year old sat in his room at his desk, a small metal lamp illuminating his workspace.

In one hand, he held a book, in the other, a mechanical pencil. In front of him, a few sheets of paper were neatly piled, nothing more a few words adorning the otherwise white paper.

His parents, along with his younger brother, had left, gathering groceries and whatnot. Seimei had chosen to stay home, adding the finishing touches to his book report's outline. He pushed his pair of reading glasses back up and turned the page when a knock sounded on his room's balcony door.

His eyes moved to glance at the door, a silhouette of an earless figure shown in thought the curtains, "Yes?", acknowledging his 'Fighter'.

The figure moved a step back before opening the door and stepping past the curtains, "Is it alright if I come inside, Seimei?" the blonde young man asked.

Seimei shifted his gaze back to his work, "It seems you have, Soubi.", to which the older titled his head down, expecting punishment.

When none came, the blonde looked up at his master, only to have a paperweight slam against his chest, the force of which knocked him to the floor. Seimei hadn't even looked at him, he merely continued with his work. Soubi picked up the paperweight and placed it on the table next to him, before sitting down patiently.

Seimei could have expected such a situation from Soubi. Now that Soubi bore his Name, he owned the man, naturally drawing the blonde to him.

Soubi remained on the floor, sitting on his ankles, watching his master's tail swish back and forth, brushing against the floor in front of where he was sitting.

When Soubi moved to come closer, Seimei paused in his writing, making Soubi freeze as well, only to turn to the next page of his book.

Soubi continued moving closer until he was sitting directly behind Seimei, nothing more than a foot or so between them, not counting Seimei's chair.

Seimei continued to write, ignoring his 'Fighter's' staring. Soubi was watching his master's back with rapt attention, straight, tall, and proud, despite his young age.

He cautiously reached forward, he had never touched Seimei before, and attempted to stroke his master's flowing tail with his fingertips when it suddenly moved right.

When his fingers followed and nearly made contact, it moved left.

Either Seimei was aware of what he was doing or his tail subconsciously moved away from human contact.

A small smile crept onto Soubi's face as he continued his game, Seimei completely unaware as to what was happening behind him. When Soubi moved left, the tail swished right and vice versa.

The absurdity of what he was doing made a chuckle pass his lips before he could reign it in.

Seimei halted in his writing once again, the familiar scritching sound of his pencil on paper faded into silence before he spoke, "Hush, Soubi." and continued his writing.

Soubi swallowed quietly, yet was determined to play this dangerous game. He attempted several more times to touch his master's tail, but it always moved at the last second.

Soubi maneuvered one hand to the right of Seimei's tail while the other moved in from the left.

As expected, the tail swished away, but this time, it brushed against Soubi's fingertips. Trying his luck, Soubi ran two fingers down the side.

Seimei had stilled, though Soubi was too transfixed by his prize to notice. It was only when a whooshing sound came from his left that he looked towards it.

Seimei had swung the book at his face, slamming it against his nose, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to make him bleed.

Seimei glared down at Soubi as he lay on the floor, hand cupped to his nose, "You are not allowed to touch me. Your touch is dirty. Your touch _burns_."

Soubi pulled his torso off the floor and bowed his head, "I'm sorry, master, I-"

"Get out."

Soubi looked up, and a hand struck him across the face, "I said get out."

"Yes, master...", Soubi stood, wobbling a little from the force of the blows to his head and face, and walked to the balcony.

Seimei did not watch him leave. Once the Fighter was gone, he stood up from his desk and walked into his room's bathroom. He went to the faucet, lathered his hands with soap, and ran hot water over them, scrubbing them together furiously.

Once they were clean and dried,he took a damp towel and ran it over his tail. Grabbing a dry towel hanging on a rack, he carefully rubbed it clean.

Once satisfied, he walked back to his desk, stopping to pick up the book off the floor and sat back down, continuing his work…

* * *

Seimei was seated on the couch inside Nisei's apartment, watching the news. A blur of stories spilled from the lips of inane reporters who must likely didn't give a damn about what they were talking about.

The other man sitting on the other end of the couch was resting his head on his wrist in a bored fashion, "Seimei," the man groaned, "Can't we watch something that's_ remotely_ interesting?"

The other made no move to change the channel, promting the older to reach for where the television remote was laying between them.

Before he made contact, the remote was stolen from beneath his fingers, "Hey!", he shouted indignantly, "I was going to change this," pointing at the television, "To something much better!"

Nisei received no reply. He slowed inched over, closer to his Sacrifice, mentally devising a plan to snatch the remote. Staring intently at his Sacrifice who was sitting unplussed by his odd behavior, he twisted his body.

With a sudden lunge, he found himself sprawled across Seimei's lap.

A moment later, he found himself dumped off onto the floor, an irate Seimei towering over his collapsed form, "Never do that again."

The Sacrifice dusted off his pants where Nisei had landed and then sat back down, throwing one leg over his Fighter's body, keeping him pinned to the floor where he growled but made not move to get up from where he lay.

Neither moved, and the news played on…

* * *

An eight year old Ritsuka was running through the local park, Semei at his heels. The two were engaged in a friendly game of tag, obviously, Seimei was 'it'.

The older was gaining ground fast, even though he was merely jogging after the younger who was running at full tilt.

As Seimei stretched one hand out towards his brother, Ritsuka disappeared. Seimei stumbled onto his little brother who had fallen down after tripping on a large rock, "Ow!"

Ritsuka was awkwardly positioned under his brother, who quickly lifted himself up, ignoring for now the dirt that stained his hands, "Ritsuka? Are you alright?"

The younger sniffed, a few tears falling as he grasped his ankle, "It hurts, Seimei…"

The older knelt down and held the leg up, just above the ankle, making his brother hiss in pain, "I don't think it's broken, Ritsuka," he said, slightly concerned, "It's only a little sprained. Can you stand?"

Ritsuka was pulled to his feet only to gasp sharply as he applied pressure to the injured foot. He hopped on one foot until he balanced himself on Seimei's shoulder.

Seimei sighed, before sliding one arm beneath his brother's knees and the other behind his back, lifting him off the ground.

After Ritsuka's initial shock at the sudden change in height, he laced his arms around his brother's neck, burying his face into Seimei's shoulder.

The older glanced down with a small smile as Ritsuka sighed in content and closed his eyes.

'_Perhaps,'_ he mused to himself as he carried his brother home, _'Touch isn't so bad…' _he thought peacfully before amending, _'Only if it's Ritsuka and I, of course…'_

* * *

A/N: Part II

Black Rien


End file.
